Page 42 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

The familiar roar of a truck interrupted my thoughts about William, and I turned to see my dad driving up the road toward us.

William put his phone away and watched as my dad stopped and climbed out of his truck. His had a running board because that was okay once you were over sixty. Dressed in his typical jeans, brown cowboy hat, and a faded flannel shirt, Dad came straight for us and held his hand out for William. “How was your first day?”

William shook Dad’s hand, and I wondered if he was used to the man’s bone-crushing grip yet. “Good. Your daughter is an excellent teacher.”

Dad beamed and gave me a wide smile. “She is something, isn’t she?”

My dad was still under the impression that I might harbor some sort of crush on William. That, of course, wasn’t true, but I hadn’t told my dad otherwise. Not yet. Let the man dream of more grandchildren. I’d have to get on my unwed brothers to take care of that.

“How long are you here again?” my dad asked.

“One week,” William said.

“Good.” Dad looked at me again before fixing his gaze on William. I held my breath, feeling a dinner invitation coming on. One that would include me. To my surprise, my dad asked about something different. “Then you should join us for the barley harvest on Saturday.”

William blinked. “Barley harvest?” I could tell he was imagining a huge combine driving through the field picking the grain.

“It’s a family tradition,” my dad said.

I swallowed. There was no way William wanted to pick and separate barley by hand. No sane person did, except my dad. Every year we worked a small section of the field this way to remind us of how easy we had it.

The list of things William and I had done today flashed through my mind, along with the scrapes, bruises, and sore muscles that I’d accumulated, and I had to wonder if we really did have it easier.

“You should bring Patrick too,” my dad said. “The more the merrier.”

William glanced at me, maybe asking for reassurance that this wasn’t a trap.

It was a trap, likely to give the two of us more time to spend together, but I wasn’t going to fall into it quite that easily. “Daddy, William already told me he has a couple of meetings Saturday morning.”

My dad looked at William and gave him the stink eye. “You do?”

“I might be able to change some things around,” he said.

Stupid man, I’d given him an out, and he wasn’t taking it.

“What time would we be starting?” William asked.

“Breakfast is at seven and harvesting starts at eight-thirty. We should be finished in a couple of hours.”

William took out his phone and started looking at what I assumed was his calendar.

Dad turned to me. “Thanks for getting that fence repaired.”

“Of course.”

“Did you teach him the right way to do it?”

“I did.” I patted my dad on the shoulder. “Which was my way.”

He snorted. “I’m going to have to tell him otherwise.”

Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I found William scratching the side of his head. “You’re going to want to wash your hair real good tonight,” I said. “Those sheep are teeming with things you don’t want to reside on your skin.”

William stopped scratching, and his eyes drifted to mine. I’d hope to find panic in them, but instead, he lifted one eyebrow a fraction of an inch.

How could that make him even more attractive?

I wasn’t into guys who were good at spreadsheets and sat in meetings all day. I was into guys who could work alongside me, could laugh at a good joke, and respected me.

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